Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
I hope this ends well, but I don't think it will.
I think this book can be a real treat for readers who are into worldbuilding-heavy, idea-driven fantasy where the characters are mainly used as vehicles to explore the key concepts. The setting here is rich, complex, and quite thoroughly explored. There are a lot of wuxia elements, with plenty of scenes hinging on practicing martial arts and mastering sein, the life force. There’s a clash between two cultures who each have grievous misconceptions about each other, and a lot of discussion about how we tend to dehumanize those who aren’t like us, whether because we see them as weaker or more dangerous, and if we can breach those big gaps. And then there’s the central concept that was the main draw of the book for me: the very cool twist on the Chosen One trope, making those chosen heroes of legend the biggest danger the world has to contend with.
I have personally enjoyed exploring these concepts, but I also felt curiously detached from them throughout. Despite the vast cast of characters who are by no means uninteresting and a plot that’s reasonably twisty, albeit very slow-moving until the final act, I can compare the experience of reading this novel to that of reading an RPG setting book. Like, yay, a cool world! With plenty of interesting challenges and things happening! Now I kind of want to brainstorm what sort of fictional humans may live in it and have personal dramas that aren’t just there to explore the central concepts. Because the characters that are there feel like they exist just for that, and while it’s absolutely a valid approach, it’s not one that resonates with me or pulls me into the story. There were a bunch of more character-focused moments that I did like, such as, for example, Tani’s interactions with Jaer, but overall, I think this just wasn’t really a book for me, in terms of its approach to storytelling. I’m still glad I read it, because I did like the worldbuilding and it gave me a lot of food for thought.
“A mate is . . .” The cicadas quiet. We can only hear the waves, gently lapping into the night. “Who you are meant for. Who is meant for you.” “And this is a uniquely Were experience that differs from Human high schoolers writing lyrics on each other’s yearbooks before heading to separate colleges . . . how?”
It took me a hot minute to get used to the writing style, and then every time I came back to the book after a break in reading, there was a brief period of readjustment, as well. I wouldn’t call the prose bad by any means, just challenging to get into somehow. Still can’t quite put a finger on why—maybe it’s just an ESL thing on my part.
At the beginning, I was really fascinated by the sci-fi-ish spin on the typical urban fantasy races. However, alas, that worldbuilding began to gradually fall apart past the first few chapters. There were minor details I’d question even if the existence werewolves and vampires was vaguely explained by magic, but the attempt at a more science-y bend made them even more grating. For example, there’s a point in the book when it’s stated that, unlike vampires (sorry, Vampyres), the werewolves (sorry, Weres) don’t stand out to humans at all at a glance. Like, excuse me? They have green blood? They’ve been stated to blush green? They probably have green-tinted nails, mouths, conjunctivae etc? Sounds pretty damn noticeable to me. Though there’s also a scene late in the book that mentions a Were character’s lips being dark red after kissing, so idk what I’m supposed to think here. These details are small, but what with them clashing with how the worldbuilding was presented at the beginning, they kept taking me out of the narrative.
As for the story itself, I really, really liked the political plot. The bigger picture that led to Misery and Lowe’s arranged marriage, the inner struggles withing the Were community, how it all tied together with Serena’s disappearance, all of it was simply delicious. I loved every twist and reveal… up until maybe the final part where all the missing details get communicated to the protagonists and the reader via a classic villainous monologue. That, admittedly, I wasn’t a huge fan of.
The same theme continues with the romance, I guess: all cool up until a certain point. Misery herself was a great narrator whose sense of humor and reaction to trauma and abandonment I found pretty relatable. Lowe didn’t grip me that much, but he had his moments, and overall I liked the dynamic these two head and how their relationship progressed. But then we got to the obligatory third act break-up, which took the form of the classic “break their heart in order to save them“ moment, annnnnd… while I understand why *what* he did was justified, *how* he did it??? Not so much. I’m still reeling because it was never even properly addressed afterward. It honestly made me super angry, and I feel like Misery, based on her earlier characterization, shouldn’t be able to get back to trusting him so soon after.
Despite all my complaints, there were enough fun moments here to make me want to check out more of the author’s books. I also kind of hope for a sequel about Misery’s twin brother, because he’s easily my favorite character in this whole story, and he’s had such a cool arc despite only showing up on page a handful of times!
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
Esmour hated him, but he hated himself more for still loving the bastard.
I really wish this story was a bit longer, because it’s just so packed with great tropes, but they barely have space to breathe. Second chance romance! Dramatic misunderstandings! Fake dating! Come on, I just want it all to be spread a bit so that I can enjoy every aspect properly and to dig into the characters deeper, because Esmour is the only one who feels really realized. And the mystery plot—it wasn’t bad, but it would be cooler if it wasn’t so condensed.
Still, despite all of the above, I enjoyed this quick read and had a nice time with it. The one truly big problem is the lack of editing, though. The most egregious example was when the two leads suddenly swapped names, and it happened during a flashback, too, just to make things more confusing. It really took me out of the story just when I was settling in.
“You trying to find dirt on Chronotech?“ “I have dirt. I need evidence.“
This was a pretty fun story! I don’t feel like I’ve connected deeply with any of the characters, but Ren was an enjoyable enough protagonist to follow regardless. I liked how his arc was constructed. And Phoebe is easily my favorite—I smiled every time she turned up on the page. The main draw here was the plot for sure, with the growing suspense, the conspiracies, and that big twist toward the end that recontextualized everything. All of it came together so intricately, especially in the second half, and it just kept me turning pages to figure out what was going on.
I don’t think this read is going to stick with me for a long time—I’m definitely more a character-oriented reader, and through no fault of the book’s, I just didn’t click enough with any of the fictional people here. But regardless, it was an enjoyable read that provided me with a few exciting hours!
A great cruel power, doing almost nothing. Like a dormant volcano. All she did was grow roses.
This didn’t quite beat The Twisted Ones as far as my favorite horror books by T. Kingfisher go, but it’s coming as a very close second! I just absolutely dig the entire thing: the plot, the escalation of tension and horror, the sense of setting, the characters, the vibes. There wasn’t a single dull moment for me here. Just. The way the narrative unfolds? How bad it gets toward the end? How then it gets so much worse and more complex? Chef’s kiss.
I knew rather little about the novel going in, besides the basics like “haunted house horror with southern gothic vibes and family stuff.“ The cover, alongside the first couple of pages, led me to think this would be, at least in some part, bird horror. Without going into spoilery detail, that conclusion was debunked in a really fun way. I mean, the vultures are definitely around a lot and very important for the story! It’s just that there are much scarier things around. Like roses and ladybugs. (Fun fact: I love roses and ladybugs. Both scream safety and sunlight to me. It’s truly a testament to Kingfisher’s talent that she managed to make me fear both for the duration of reading this.)
My favorite part about the book was the relationship between the MC and her mother. Apparently, I’m really interested in exploring dynamics between independent adults and their parents, and I’m not getting enough of it. Edie—the mom—is my favorite character here, in fact. I really admire how she’s done her best to stop the cycle of abuse in her family and be a good parent to her kids. Yes, she wasn’t able shield them from her own mother completely, but she stood up for them and made sure they knew when things weren’t okay rather than normalizing those things. She really did her best to heal that generational trauma, and I admire her so much for that.
All in all, I loved this for the atmosphere, the twists, the humanity of the characters, and the great writing. Definitely goes on my “best of 2024“ list.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.5
The night of festivities for the camp hadn’t even started yet, and I already had my hand down Moth’s pants.
This is basically a Christmas special whereby we take a break from the normal proceedings of the Monstrous series, such as meeting new monsters and humans and watching them fall in love, and spend some time with the characters we already know and love in a practically no-stakes situation. Everyone’s literally just having fun.
As usual, I really, really liked most of the scenes that weren’t couple-focused. Like, just assorted characters interacting outside of their relationship. It was especially lovely to see new moments from two of my favorite friendships: Wyn and Edin, and Charlie and Hunter. I also enjoyed learning more about Anchor, though I wish her backstory wasn’t so sad. Can she have a second chance at happiness, please?
As for all the romance content, weirdly, outside of some moments between Wyn and Dany and then Ghost and Ari, I was kind of meh on it. Like, yeah, each of the couples got their share of sweat moments, but I think the balance of feels to smut leaned too much toward smut for me, and I wasn’t entirely comfortable with like… how much everyone knew what exactly everyone else got up to, with consent often becoming kinda blurry in that context.
Overall, I think I would have missed nothing in terms of continuity if I skipped this extra, but it has its fun moments.
You don’t do it because you’re a knight. You don’t do it for a title or glory or for Arthur to pat you on the back. I don’t do it just because I’m getting paid. We do it because it’s the right thing to do.
This was so fun! Not a particularly original story, but truly a great fantasy adventure with romance and friendship, hitting all the right beats at all the right times. I loved the author’s interpretation of the familiar Arthurian archetypes. Lancelot, Morgan, Guinevere, and Merlin in particular really captivated me for all sorts of different reasons. And the fairies! As beautiful and dangerous as they should be, and I’m so intrigued with those small hints at the sequel. Whatever else might Mab and Nimue have planned for Albion?
The artwork is perhaps the biggest selling point. It’s just plain gorgeous. Such bright colors! Such striking moods! Perfectly fitting for a classic fantasy quest with fairy tale vibes. I read this graphic novel super quickly, but I’ll certainly be paging through it again and again over the coming days simply to appreciate the drawings. The artist is SO talented, I just can’t.
Overall, this is a perfect heartwarming fairy tale where the knights are honorable, the power of goodness and friendship saves the day, and at the same time the villains aren’t irredeemable and the central conflict has depth and complexity to it, discussing the cycles of violence and how they might be stopped. I so hope there’ll be more!
I know what it’s like to need someone around who doesn’t ask questions.
Such a quiet, beautiful hurt/comfort story. I loved how these two slightly broken men—one grieving, the other running from an abusive relationship—came together to heal each other. The pacing felt perfect, especially that “two steps forward, one step back“ stage around the middle. I just found it so realistic, this careful progression of feelings and needs and wants and fears, all pulling the characters in slightly different directions, but eventually coinciding into a single track.
I also really liked the setting: the tiny town on the southernmost tip of Australia, with the southern lights and penguins and the vast, vast ocean. The way it’s described here is so immersive. I felt like I was standing on that shore watching the stars and the waves, or exploring the cozy lighthouse under the critical eye of that moody cat, or tasting fish and chips at that tiny local place. And the side characters that inhabited the place were all great, too. I particularly loved how Collin turned out to be an ally rather than a villain at the end. And Penny in that one scene with Patrick where she was so casually supportive, and Mrs Whittaker’s humor, and Frank’s cranky kindness. So many nice fictional people.
There were perhaps a couple of small moments where certain interactions turned needlessly sappy/over-the-top, but overall, the narrative flawed so well and provided just the right degree of feels.
I was lured in with two things—“gothic“ and “love triangle turned poly“—and I was kind of underwhelmed by how both were executed. The gothic vibes at least grew thicker as the story progressed, but I feel like the author missed the opportunity to gradually set up the mood at the beginning—something I tend to expect from gothic stories. The poly thing… eh. Up until the very end, it read like your usual love triangle, until the MC was suddenly like, “Idk how to choose between you, can’t we all be together?“ and the two LIs were all, “Oh, yeah, well, sure. Btw, we have a history of mutual pining, surely the last chapter is a great place to mention it.“ There was barely any time spent on the LIs’ interactions with each other, and one of them was completely absent from the story for a big crucial chunk of the plot. Nope, sorry, I’m not buying this.
The book did have its moments, though. When the gothic vibes did work, they worked. I appreciated the complexities of Emile’s relationship with his aunt. Some of the side characters provided fun moments; I especially loved Annette who was probably the most practical and level-headed of the entire cast. The villain is appropriately, gothically villainous. The story on the whole is very YA, but I kind of liked how believably YA it was, with all the decision making and planning looking exactly what a bunch of scared teens would come up with. I do wish Emile was a bit smarter, or at least a faster learner, because honestly, I had way too many moments of secondhand embarrassment for him.
Also, a note to my fellow arachnophobes: the creepiest of all crawlies are very much present on the page, and there’s one scene that will probably give you nightmares Tread with caution.
Every once in a while, I get this thought, like a thread I can feel on my skin. The thought is that I’m just willing what I’m feeling to be true. I’m willing myself to believe this is real.
I understand what this book tried to do, and I actually feel it did it pretty well. It’s just that it didn’t work for me. I actually like reading about teenagers being exceptionally messy, and I feel like the graphic novel format often lends itself exceptionally well to all of those exaggerated feelings and bad choices. But I’ve realized while reading this that I prefer it when there’s some external plot that holds the narrative together and can be juxtaposed with all the big feelings. You know, like the werewolves thing in Squad or the anime bootlegging in Forest Hills Bootleg Society. Here, though, it’s all about the feels and the drama and nothing else. Freddy, the MC, is incredibly self-absorbed, and also Laura Dean-absorbed, and she barely pays attention to what’s going on with her friends or anyone else, really. There are all those other characters floating around, and the narrative, through Freddy’s lovesick, confused, selfish gaze, barely pauses enough to let us get to know anyone—or at least that’s how it is for the large part of the story.
And like I’ve said, I get it! That’s the point! This *is* a story about a teen girl being confused and self-absorbed and locked in her own hurting! And it also did get better in the second half once Freddy’s started learning her lessons, noticing the cracks in her friends’ relationship that she just thought of as “perfect,“ and being there for Doodle. But with nothing else to focus on through the entire story but this one storyline, I don’t know, it was kind of equal parts underwhelming and overwhelming for me. Probably a classic “it’s not the book, it’s me“ case, to be fair.